Shattered Dreams Read Online Free Page A

face
warned her that ‘one of them’ was nothing particularly nice, but
she had no intention of asking him to elaborate.
    She
sighed; loudly. “No, I am not one of ‘them’. I have an appointment
with Mr Tingay. Please tell him I have arrived. My name is Miss
Matilda Fenton.”
    She made
sure that her tone was as brisk and formal as she could manage and,
for emphasis, just so he knew that she wasn’t going to be cowed by
his bullying tactics, she looked him insolently up and
down.
    To her
satisfaction he immediately straightened and scowled at
her.
    “ I can wait on the doorstep,” she added conversationally. “I
am sure you won’t mind clearing the water off his rug when we have
finished our meeting.”
    Their
eyes clashed in a silent battle of wills for several
moments.
    “ I could, of course, go around the front, if you wish?” She
added for emphasis, and would do just that if he continued to keep
her on the doorstep, in the pouring rain for much
longer.
    “ What do you want with him?”
    Tilly
lifted her brows. “I am sure that if Mr Tingay wanted you to know
that, he would have told you himself, now wouldn’t he?”
    She
watched the man study her calculatingly for a moment. She knew that
he was contemplating whether it was worth incurring the wrath of
the master of the house to slam the door in her face.
    Luckily,
the man’s desire to keep his job forced him to step back and
reluctantly allow her into the warmth of the kitchen.
    It was
only when she was surrounded by the warmer temperature inside that
she realised just how cold she was. She struggled to hide her
shiver as she looked at the rather aged surroundings in growing
dismay. For some reason, she didn’t want either the man who had
answered the door, or the rather dour woman at the kitchen table,
to see any sign of weakness. However, it took a lot of effort to
hide her horror at the sight of the paint peeling off the walls,
and the dull and dingy curtains sitting beside the badly cracked
shutters at the windows.
    She
carefully kept her face blank, closed the door behind her, and took
a moment to study the cluttered and dirty kitchen while the man,
who appeared to be the butler, clumsily retied his cravat and
dragged his jacket on. She nodded at the woman beside the kitchen
table but, unsurprisingly, received nothing more than a deep scowl
in return.
    Harry
sighed at the loud raps on the door, and dropped his quill onto the
paper before him.
    “ In,” he snapped impatiently, and sat back in his chair to
wait to see what his useless butler wanted this time.
    Ever
since he had opened the safe earlier, Dandridge had been trying to
find a way to get into the room, undoubtedly so he could take a
closer look at what else Harry had left visible in his
study.
    If it
was down to Harry, he would have put the man behind bars already,
but was frustratingly aware that he needed to gather a little more
evidence; if not actually catch Dandridge in the process of trying
to steal money from the safe. It was only the rather satisfying
thought that he would soon be able to put one, if not both of them,
behind bars that made him dig deep into his well of patience, and
bide his time.
    “ There is a Miss Madeline Fenton to see you,” Dandridge
intoned from just inside the doorway.
    Rather
than enter the room as any good butler would, Dandridge remained by
the door. However, his eyes wandered around the room and scoured
every surface while he waited for instruction.
    Harry
shook his head as he watched him. “Do I know her?”
    “ She said you are expecting her.”
    “ What does she want?” Harry’s frown deepened.
    This
time Dandridge frowned, and shifted on his feet impatiently. “She
didn’t say.”
    Harry
wanted to bang his head against the table. He began to wonder if
Hugo’s aunt had been battling with infirmity of the head or
something, to employ a useless idiot like Dandridge long enough for
him to steal from her. His lack of butler skills were